


Ponderings

by shamrockivy



Series: Thunderstreak's Adventures [1]
Category: Transformers (Bay Movies)
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Cancer, Discussion of Abortion, Gen, Leukemia, M/M, Major Character Undeath, Mpreg, POV Multiple, Spark Bond, Spark Sex, Sparklings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-05
Updated: 2014-08-05
Packaged: 2018-02-11 20:15:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 6
Words: 13,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2081688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shamrockivy/pseuds/shamrockivy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After events that occurred during Revenge of the Fallen, the quiet following the chaos gives opportunity for reflection amongst those who lived through it.</p><p>But chaos comes in many forms and quiet can't last forever.</p><p>*Originally written in 2009, this work completely disregards all events/occurrences of Transformers: Dark of the Moon.*</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sam

Sam didn’t find himself pondering often. After all, he was currently in college with a hot girlfriend willing to keep their long distance relationship going and a sweet ride willing to take him out for a drive whenever he had the chance. 

However, amongst the seemingly endless amount of homework, interruptions from a slightly disturbed roommate, and all around general distractions of college life, Sam found himself with a rare moment of time in which to ponder.

Fate. Destiny. Providence. All three words a futile attempt to explain, describe, and define a particular way of how incomprehensible coincidences occur in the normal person’s life.

Sam knew he wasn’t the sharpest crayon in the box, but even he was aware of the fact that he had to have something backing him up, though it might just be plain ‘ole luck.

Sam knew for a fact that he was lucky. There were far too many instances that pointed to the very fact:

 

1\. He had escaped from a psychotic 30+ foot alien robot that wanted to kill him.

2\. He had survived falling from a 150+ foot building after being blown off by said psychotic 30+ foot alien robot.

3\. He had destroyed the only remaining hope of life for the autonomous robotic organisms he called friends, only to not just avoid punishment, but be praised instead.

4\. After surviving an epic battle between badass alien robots and the US military, his alien robot guardian/snazzy car/best friend asked for permission from his leader to stay with him, the dorky, socially awkward boy, which was granted.

5\. His parents, after discovering they had an alien robot in their garage, still let their son ‘keep’ him. At least until he left for college.

6\. After having freaky alien symbols rattling around in his head and making him go slightly nuts for a short period of time, being kidnapped by the previously deceased psychotic 30+ foot alien robot, and having a freaky worm/centipede device thrust into his brain, he had been rescued with said brain intact.

7\. He managed to get dragged through a space-time portal all the way to Egypt by a senile and decrepit Decepticon-turned-Autobot who was one lug nut shy from the scrap heap without turning into a pile of cinders.

8\. He had died, been brought back to life by the ancestors of his alien robot friends, and brought Optimus Prime back to life as well.

9\. His hot girlfriend and sweet ride/best friend who is an alien robot were with him through the entire Egyptian desert fiasco.

10\. His parents, girlfriend, pussy roommate, Autobot friends, and guardian car all made it through the said Egyptian desert fiasco in one piece.

 

Overall, he had escaped death more times than he wanted to count in case of jinxing himself and ended up with an alien robot that can turn into a bitchin’ camaro as a best friend, along with the beginning suspicions that he was developing a not so slight crush on said alien robot best friend.

Being his best friend though, the bitchin’ camaro had not brought up any awkward conversations concerning the fact. It was simply left unspoken and understood that they were two best friends who loved each other more than the previous title suggested.

Yes, Sam Witwicky thought himself a very lucky guy.

A slightly questioning rumble of an engine broke him out his thoughts, bringing his awareness back to the present, where it really should stay if he didn’t want to end up burning in the late afternoon sun in which he was basking.

Running a hand gently over the hood of the shiny yellow camaro he was currently reclined on, Sam smiled apologetically.

“Sorry Bee, I was just lost in my own thoughts.”

The camaro’s engine’s gentle purring supplied the acceptance of the apology along with a short bit of Garth Brooks _“…I get lost in a wonderful daze, lost in your wonderful ways…”_.

Yes, damn lucky indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lyrics from Garth Brooks’ “Lost In You”


	2. Bumblebee

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes places 6 months after 'Sam'.

Six months was hardly a substantial amount of time. Even by human standards, the passing of six months is certainly nothing to be concerned with, simply half a year’s time during the seven or eight decades that a human might achieve in their lifetime. And for a Cybertronian such as Bumblebee, six months could be measured to be as little as the time taken between one step and the next, the amount so infinitesimal.

However, for Bumblebee, the past six months had been nothing close to insignificant.

He would be hard pressed to state exactly when it began to happen, but the most obvious signs were the decreasing visits, phone calls, and webcam chats. Mikaela simply began to call less frequently and spent less time with Sam when he would return to his parent’s home during breaks at his college.

Although it could be said that Sam didn’t throw himself into trying to win back Mikaela’s interest in him, Bumblebee felt it was not entirely his fault the relationship was disintegrating. A young adult male, a few years older than Sam, started working at the motorcycle garage that Mikaela’s father owned. From Mikaela’s description, he was seemingly pleasing to look at, well versed in automobile arrangement, humorous, and a gentleman.

From that point, the phone calls between the two became even rarer, and from Bumblebee’s point of view, a bit comical, for Mikaela talked more and more about Caleb, the young adult male at her father’s garage, and Sam talked more and more about him. Neither seemed to notice or care that they were not the center of conversation for the other.

It finally came to a head two months after Sam had gone back to college after the defeat of the Fallen. One simple phone call was all it took, no violence or accusations, or even raised voices, just straightforward acceptance of the ending and a mutual promise to stay as friends and keep in touch.

After that phone call, the steadily growing affection between Bumblebee and Sam practically exploded in a supernova of understanding and learning. They talked more than ever, often about things that Sam wouldn’t even have talked to Mikaela about, only Bumblebee.

About a month after the break-up between Sam and Mikaela, Bumblebee took several trips to Ratchet, to ensure that his holoform programming was up to date. He wanted to do as many things together with Sam as he could, and many of those things could not be accomplished even in his alt mode.

Technically, Bumblebee was not even supposed to be on campus, due to college’s rule of freshman not being allowed ‘cars’. However, with the past event of Sam being kidnapped by Decepticons and nearly having his brain surgically removed, all while attending college at the time, his parents were quite happy to bully and contribute their way into Bumblebee being allowed to be ‘brought’ to campus.

In hindsight, Bumblebee was very glad he took the initiative to make sure his holoform was up to par, for it wasn’t a month after doing so that he received his first kiss from Sam. What started out as a quick, tender brush of lips swiftly turned into their first of numerous to come ‘make-out sessions’ as Sam pleasurably termed it. 

So soft lips that shyly opened for a bold tongue, wet, hot twining of tongues that fought, but didn’t fight all at once, possessive, yet delicate hold of a face that held brown eyes that strived to stay open, but eventually slipped closed in bliss.

The next few months to come seemed to both drag and fly by at once. Time appeared to crawl when he was waiting for Sam to get out of class or finish homework he had been assigned. Though, when they were together, time seemed to speed up, and a single evening could pass and feel like only a few hours had occurred.

Touches between the two became more and more frequent as well; holding hands when alone, to the average person seemingly casual brushing of arms and shoulders, heated looks, stolen kisses in deserted hallways, and sneaking off to do acts unspeakable in public within a certain yellow camaro with black racing stripes.

Bumblebee had even begun to walk Sam to his classes, and it was a testament to Sam’s devotion that he only argued about it for three days before giving up and allowing it with only a slightly frustrated smile.

Before either of them truly realized it, six months had passed and after a slow and heated make-out session on Sam’s bed, a rare indulgence since Leo was out for a few days due to something going on with his website, Sam hesitantly asked Bumblebee if he would like to take the final physical aspect of their relationship that they hadn’t done yet.

Of course, Sam said though he felt he was ready, it was up to Bumblebee to decide.

He knew that perhaps it was too soon, that he should hold back and allow Sam more time to accustom himself to their relationship. But Sam had looked up at him with that begging look, a silent plea for Bumblebee to ease his longing and tormented wait, and who was Bumblebee to deny him? After all, Sam was his one weakness, the one whom he could deny nothing. If Sam had asked for the sun, Bumblebee would have gone into orbit and burnt away to cinders trying to capture it and bring it back.

So he had gathered Sam back into his arms, stroking, undressing, caressing, and preparing him until he was mindless with pleasure, and then proceeded to take the virginity that Sam whispered in his ear was only for him to claim.

Sweat-slickened skin, shuddering gasps, moans and groans of pleasure, cries of delight, pleas for more, all of it Bumblebee wrote onto his core database, so that ten thousand years later he will still remember the look of pure unaltered ecstasy on his Sam’s face.

Bumblebee’s receptors were overwhelmed with the various sensations his holoform was relaying. Even the sheer fact that he was sheathed within the most private part of Sam’s body was enough to draw him towards overload. His processors were overwrought with happiness that he was as close to being one joined body with Sam as was possible for a human.

That they were connected in such a way that there was no room for thought of anyone but each other was thrilling in its sense of completion and certainty of how right it felt to be so joined. How powerful it felt to be bonded to each other, as close as they could be with Sam not having possession of a spark himself.

It had been mainly slow and tender, only growing desperate towards the very end when both were hovering precariously over the edge, for Bumblebee was adamant that Sam’s first be nothing but gentle pleasure and love shown in physical form.

There would be time for rough, lustful, and dominating later.

As Sam tumbled over the edge of pleasure through his climax, he uttered the three words that Bumblebee had been waiting to hear since having them first spoken to him as Sam was leaving for college.

After recovering from his own overload, Bumblebee placed a chaste kiss upon Sam’s swollen lips and returned the sentiment.

“I love you too, Samuel James Witwicky.”

Sam had given him a tired smile, soft chocolate brown eyes filled with love and caring, before cuddling up to him and slipping into recharge, the smile still present on his visage.

His processors identified a strange sense of accomplishment and pride that the physical remains of his overload was still located within his Sam, an uncontestable claim that Sam was his and his alone, just as he was only Sam’s. Car, guardian, best friend, lover; Bumblebee would use all the power within his spark to be everything that his Sam needed.

Bumblebee hopes that his Sam will never lose that small smile he adores, the habit of being gullible when sleepy, the way he crosses his t’s a bit crooked, and the way he always makes sure to make up when they actually fight, in case the next day he is kidnapped by Decepticons again, Sam explains.

Sam is the fuel for Bumblebee’s spark, this he knows. Sam is his guarded, his human, and his reason for everything he does. Without Sam, Bumblebee lacks drive and purpose. He meant it when he said that Sam is the person he cares about most in his life, and he will spend the rest of his days proving it.

For the past six months, Bumblebee feels that he has truly lived more than all the thousands of years of his existence before being with his Sam.

Six months is not a long stretch of time, but for Bumblebee it has been the longest start of a new lifetime, one of peace, happiness, and his Sam.


	3. Optimus

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place 18 months after 'Bumblebee'.

Humans were both such a complex and contradictory species.

In many ways they were frail and easily susceptible to harm. Intense heat, cold, pressure, impact, loss of blood, or failure to take in oxygen were only a few of the ways that humans could perish. It could even be said that the number of ways that humans could succumb to death may even outnumber the amount of stars within this galaxy.

However, for all the fragility of the human race that Cybertronians would never be able to relate to, many humans also contained within them a strength of character and courage that will hold itself together even with the percentage of failure fully against them, a strength that the Autobots understood and respected.

A mother would fight to the death to try and keep her offspring safe, older siblings would suffer pain and torment in place of the younger in an attempt to spare them, comrades would rush headlong into danger to protect their brethren from enemy fire, and those in need of aid would be saved by complete strangers such as firefighters, police, and search and rescue.

It was this type of strength, mixed with despair forcefully held back, that Optimus had seen reflected in the eyes of the humans he come to know in the short time of residing on Earth.

It was two years since the great battle in Egypt and there had been no Decepticon activity since, neither from Megatron, Starscream, or even Barricade. Both Sam and Mikaela had found sparkmates, with Mikaela and her sparkmate even planning to participate in a joining ceremony common to humans called marriage.

Just two months after having Bumblebee come to him and announce his news of having taken Sam as a sparkmate, and eight months after returning from Egypt, a routine scan from one of Sam’s medical professionals brought the pleasant life of the two young ones to a crashing halt. 

In a matter of hours, the shared joy between the Autobots and humans who knew them over the wary peace that had been hard won was destroyed with the discovery of one simple fact.

Samuel James Witwicky was dying.

The head medical professional took it upon himself to explain. It was apparently called acute myeloid leukemia and could develop in humans at nearly any age, though it tended to arise most commonly in elderly humans. 

The odd bruising, increasing bouts of exhaustion, and short lengths of dizziness that had been affecting Sam for several weeks while appearing to be trivial were actually symptoms of the chronic disease.

Though much of human medical knowledge was inapplicable to the Cybertronian structure, the medical professional explained it in such a way the Autobots were able to process, though they were appalled upon fully dissecting the data. 

The translated situation was that Sam’s body was killing itself, and doing so in a painfully rapid manner. 

There was also no known cure. Treatments with low percentages of success, all with their own consequences were available, but no cure.

Sam’s Creators, as well as Mikaela were devastated with the news. Judy Witwicky was in a constant state of leaking lubricant for a week after the medical officer had given her the diagnosis. Ronald Witwicky hadn’t tended to his lawn in weeks, spending all his time calling different medical facilities and researching treatment options.

Mikaela had wanted to call off the wedding until further notice, but Sam intervened and that plan was discarded.

Bumblebee, their best scout and one of their youngest, was inconsolable. The decades he had been anticipating spending with his sparkmate had been reduced to years, and more probably months. The shock of realizing how short the time had he left with his sparkmate sent him into involuntary stasis for a few hours.

Optimus had seen many thousands of years, and yet seeing Sam’s courage made him feel honored to know such a human, one whose bravery was of a different sort, but no less respectable.

Sam did not pity himself, nor did he cast blame on any of the medical staff that had tried their best to prepare him and the others for the changes that were going to occur within the oncoming months. Instead, he spent a few days in nothing but silent contemplation and then began to make decisions on what he wished to do with the rest of the time left to him.

He refused the treatment the humans called 'chemo' and decided to accept palliative care. 

One of his first actions was to withdraw from the upper level schooling he had been attending, stating he wanted to spend as much time with his family as he could. He returned to living within his Creators’ residency, and made contact with those that he had not done so with for an extensive period, such as Miles, a friend from his lower level schooling days.

For the most part, Sam spent his free time with his Creators, Mikaela, or Bumblebee and the other Autobots. Sam quickly became a nearly daily visitor to their base, doing various jobs, entertaining the twins, or merely talking with whoever was available.

He had come to Optimus with some painful questions to ask, seeking assurance that the Autobots would make sure to look after Bumblebee once Sam was no longer alive. After having that issue resolved, Sam spent hours with Ratchet, helping with repairs by offering the talents of his small and dexterous hands which could go places that no Autobot’s could without employing the use of their holoform.

Understandably, Sam was usually found in the presence of Bumblebee, the two doing as many new activities together as they could such as bowling, fishing, camping, visiting museums, getting pictures taken, and also something to do with ‘tipping’ cows which Optimus still isn’t sure he quite understands.

For a short time it appeared that while not a perfect situation, the danger was not terribly high. Neither the disease nor the medicine was prevailing in the fight, but Sam’s body was not showing any great signs of deteriorating further. He was closely monitored not only by his human medical personnel, but also by Ratchet and Bumblebee. Any symptoms, usual or not were reported and checked by at least three different individuals. There was a great attempt to strike out all possibility of errors in any of Sam’s medical readings.

However, as with many things on Earth, decay and disorder cannot be stopped forever, and thus Bumblebee’s vigil commenced.

After having kept pace with the disease for a month, Sam’s body began to rapidly decline. As the leukemia began to take over, Sam became tired far more easily and steadily was forced to cease many of the activities he had previously been doing.

Due to having far less energy than normal, instead of visiting them, the Autobots came to visit him, often having Bumblebee drive him somewhere secluded to meet. And though Sam’s bodily condition worsened more nearly every day, he refused to give up his rides with Bumblebee, claiming that he was not going to allow this disease to take away the thing he enjoyed most in his life.

Though his voice quavered with undertones of fear and uncertainty, Optimus did not think him to be weak, only strong and determined to fight until the end, the true mark of a warrior. 

Very soon though, even Sam and Bumblebee’s excursions together had to be stopped, once Sam deteriorated enough to be placed in a medical facility for constant care.

Sam swore that as best man he would be able to attend Mikaela’s wedding, but fearing for his health, Mikaela with the acceptance and urging of her sparkmate, accomplished a great feat as Optimus understood it, and moved the wedding forward two months, so that Sam could attend in the most comfort available to him.

Mikaela was adamant however that Sam be allowed to have Bumblebee escort him to and from the wedding, instead of riding with the rest of the bridal unit. No one risked their data ports by denying her, although Ironhide did muter that Bumblebee would have the unfair advantage of arriving first.

During the last two weeks of his fight with leukemia, Sam spent nearly all of his time everyday in recharge. Any duration where he was alert was spent talking to Bumblebee or to others through various electronic devices.

It was Bumblebee who stayed constantly with Sam, attending to his every need. If Sam was thirsty, Bumblebee fetched him water. If Sam was tired, Bumblebee chased everyone out, even some of the medical staff and held Sam’s hand until he fell asleep, sometimes for even longer. If Sam was in pain, Bumblebee would hunt down the medical officer in charge of Sam’s health and forcefully drag them back to administer medication. If Sam was in need of assistance in relieving his bodily wastes, Bumblebee helped carry him and hold him up.

Bumblebee kept up a constant stream of music; several of the selections were those that used to make Sam laugh robustly, but now only drew out a tired smile or at best a rare chuckle. Sam’s spark was fading, the light dimming in his eyes as the days passed, and as it dimmed, so did Bumblebee’s.

It was not just Bumblebee who felt the pain of losing Sam approaching. Both of Sam’s Creators took a leave of absence from their respective workplaces to spend all their time and attention on their only offspring. Mikaela and her sparkmate Caleb visited every alternate day, sneaking in food from restaurants that was not particularly nourishing, but was more desired by Sam than what was served to him at the medical facility.

Optimus even saw the tension with his comrades. The twins had not stirred up anything in weeks, Ratchet was even more temperamental and prone to throwing wrenches, Ironhide was far past overly eager for the opportunity to annihilate any sentient life form, Jolt hadn’t made any jokes recently, and Optimus couldn’t remember the last time Sideswipe had made an egotistical comment.

Finally, after having fought for five months, Samuel James Witwicky’s strength ran out and he died surrounded by his loved ones, hand clinging tightly to Bumblebee’s. 

Optimus had seen dozens of his comrades and brothers fall in the war, but nothing he had seen was worse than the overwhelming sorrow that was displayed within the optics of Bumblebee.

For a few minutes after Sam’s heart monitor stopped, there was complete silence. Then the weeping began, both Judy Witwicky and Mikaela’s cries echoing off the walls of the small room. Ron Witwicky and Bumblebee’s grief was more silent, but lubrication—tears—ran down both their faces in a seemingly endless flow.

The rest of the Autobots bowed their heads in respect of a hero’s passing, and thus, missed the first start of the change.

It was the sudden stopping of the weeping that alerted them to the fact that something was happening. By the time their holoforms’ heads were raised back up, they were forced to shield their eyes from the intense, sky blue light radiating off of Sam, though none of them missed the pulsing of Allspark energy that filled the room.

The machines meant to monitor Sam’s vitals proceeded to go haywire with the Allspark energy coming from Sam, but none turned into Cybertronians. Instead, the light slowly began to dim, and once it disappeared, Sam was revealed once again, sitting up and looking very much alive.

Amidst the screams of joy and squeals of delight, along with an ardent kiss from Bumblebee, Sam raised his hand for silence which was granted, and locked his eyes with Optimus’.

“The Primes…they brought me back, said the Allspark energy stored in my body had to let me die before it could heal me, but they said it would…change me as well,” Sam whispered, though with the silence and small vicinity of the room, everyone was still able to hear what had been spoken.

As Sideswipe moved to secure the door, Ratchet with Sam’s permission did a basic scan and relayed the shocking feedback that Sam’s body had become an odd union of organic flesh and Cybertronian metal and also that he now possessed a spark which had molded with his heart.

Everyone then left the room in respect of Sam’s verbal wish to be left alone, even Bumblebee, though he did stay very close to the door, so as to hear should Sam call him for anything.

After a worrisome half hour, filled with baffled medical staff, anxious Creators, and a desperate sparkmate, Sam at last emerged from his period of reflection and struggle as to what he was now going to do with his new life.

For a few days after Sam’s release from the medical facility, the newly turned hybrid avoided physical contact, afraid that he would harm those he cared for accidentally with his new found strength. It was not until he was tackled to the ground in an embrace by Mikaela and thoroughly scolded that he amended this view.

Optimus was adamant about Sam being given as much time as he needed to adjust and learn about his new hybrid body, without pressure from the other Autobots. Surprisingly, it was Ratchet who adhered most to this ruling, although he had a tendency to run more scans on Sam than were probably needed. Sadly, the rest of Optimus’ comrades, save for Bumblebee, did their best to circumvent the order.

Ironhide continually pushed for Sam to commence weapons training, while Sideswipe kept attempting to trick him into scanning a vehicle for his alt mode and the twins were endlessly pestering the hybrid about what his new designation was going to be. Understandably, it was the twins’ blathering that upset Sam the most and it wasn’t long before Bumblebee was taking clear advantage of any opportunity to punish the twins.

Due to an incident involving a certain medical officer’s preferred wrench, the twins wishing to experiment, Sam being in the wrong place at the wrong time for a perfect kidnapping, Bumblebee being overprotective, and a gaping hole being added to the med bay with an uninjured Sam, it had been discovered that Sam’s hybrid status allowed for his body to switch from human to Cybertronian protoform.

As bets were going around between Ironhide, Sideswipe, and Jolt as to exactly how much Bumblebee was going to slag the twins and if there would be anything left for Ratchet to disassemble, Optimus easily turned a blind eye to the happenings. After all, what his comrades did during their own free time was truly none of his business as long as no allies were harmed.

Two weeks after Sam’s shocking transformation, Bumblebee and Sam informed the Autobots that they had fully sparkbonded, now that Sam was capable of participating. The celebration the announcement caused was certainly one to be saved to core databases, especially the memorable declaration by Ironhide that he happily took part in assisting Annabelle Lennox with her games of dress up by being the good fairy that was saved from the mean robots by the beautiful princess.

Of course, after that, the word fairy could no longer be spoken by anyone on base without dire consequences, which usually involved Ironhide’s cannons.

A few days later, Optimus was relieved to learn that not only had Sam chosen an alt mode, a Yamaha FZ6 motorcycle, but had also chosen a name, Solarspark, which Bumblebee had coined in honor of Sam’s valiantly efforts to save his planet’s sun from destruction, and the spark that had been gifted to him. Upon learning that he much preferred Sam to his new designation, the Autobots aspired to only use the latter for formal occasions.

Except of course for the twins, but then again, that was to be expected. Many of Sam’s first excursions in his alt mode turned into hide speed chases with Sam avoiding the twins, while also baiting them into encountering Bumblebee who was more than willing to help his bonded thrash care of his pursuers.

On the questioning the fact of whether he was aware of a betting pool between the Autobots of how many times Sam could best the twins, Optimus would have to reply he had no comment.

Despite the fact that things were beginning to run smoother, there was still adjusting to be done. Sam’s Creators were having to acclimate themselves to an offspring who was now half Cybertronian and sparkbonded, though it appeared they were not having much difficulty with the later. Judy Witwicky in particular seemed pleased with Bumblebee and Sam’s relationship. She mentioned often how ‘adorable a couple’ the two were and inquired as to when they would ‘settle down and start a family’.

Sam was also continuing to cope with his body’s changes, and the daily struggle to discover exactly what her was; a human by birth, but not entirely human anymore and not a Cybertronian from first spark, but with all it entails. He was also understandably uneasy while in his protoform, though he had taken the incentive to spend more time in it as the weeks passed.

Often, Sam could be seen riding as he always had before with Bumblebee. Other times, Bumblebee would activate his holoform and have Sam take him for a ride while very rarely, both would be in protoform and simply walk around the base, enjoying the company of each other’s sparks.

But no matter what forms they reside in, or what problems arise as the days pass, they were together and happy, truly sparkbonded.

Optimus frequently felt the burden of his leadership pressing upon him, the countless decisions that had to be made, the sacrifices and loss that were ever present and sometimes necessary during war.

But looking at the ties that bound individuals such as Bumblebee and Sam, he felt that there were enough reminders that those sacrifices and losses were not in vain, but instead were an exchange for a better and brighter tomorrow.

For though the Allspark had been destroyed and their planet thus sentenced to death, it had also brought Sam back to life, and in doing so saved one of its own as well; a yellow camaro with black racing stripes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a revised version of the original chapter I published on LJ. I wrote this before my cousin was diagnosed with AML in May 2013. After having lived through her diagnosis and treatment, I decided to rewrite portions of the chapter to include details of AML and incorporate the decisions that my cousin wished she'd chosen instead, looking back on things.


	4. Hybrid Sam

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place 18 months after 'Bumblebee'.

It could be said that dying changes a person.

Of course, it would figure that dying then coming back to life as something else should really change a person.

I had been fighting with acute myeloid leukemia for almost half a year. The day I died, I could feel the darkness closing around me, but it wasn’t the scary darkness you know as a kid, like when the electricity suddenly goes off during a summer thunderstorm. It was soothing in its own way, painless and gentle, like sleep pulling over you, as soft as a blanket, while being rocked by your mom when you were little.

I was as ready to die as I could be, and my only sad thought was that I wouldn’t be with my Bee anymore.

I had forgotten that as Sam Witwicky, my avoidance of unwanted events out of my control generally tended to hang around the ‘sucks’ area of the rating chart. So instead of finding myself in a tropical paradise with a copy of my holoform Bee offering me a back massage while both of us were completely naked, I’m standing in front of six huge semi-dead alien robots that have graciously decided to run my afterlife for me.

Even though I knew that they were technically on the ‘good guy’ side of the alien robot civil war and probably entertained no thoughts of squishing me, I couldn’t help but start to feel just a bit nervous without Bumblebee there and found myself wishing endlessly in my mind for him to magically appear.

That thought was enough to make my heart start aching fiercely, like the heartburn after eating fifteen hotdogs too many at the county fair. All I wanted was my Bee; my guardian, my friend, my lover.

The Primes began speaking and I tried my best to pay attention, but there must have been some type of set-up where newly dead people are disoriented, because I couldn’t keep my mind from wandering over half formed thoughts.

I did get the memo that they were sending me back with the Allspark’s energy that was still stored in my body, that it couldn’t have healed me until my body had completely shut down, and that made sense to even my frazzled brain. After all, I’d been holding the thing three different times when it did its robot voodoo magic.

Then they started getting all philosophical on me, talking about ‘change that shall join the two as one’ and that ‘change must be had to bring life back to its child’. I didn’t get a chance to ask them to relay it in human terms before I was nearly blinded by white light again, only to wake up, obviously alive and no longer feeling the pain of the leukemia. 

Everyone was still around my bed, the humans in the room screaming and squealing with happiness, and though it was nice to hear them again, and also getting a very possessive kiss from my very much missed alien robot boyfriend, the noise was beginning to give me a Decepticon level of nasty headache.

Holding up my hand for silence, and mildly shocked when it worked, I stared right into Optimus’ holoform’s eyes and parroted back the best I could the Primes’ message in a voice barely above a whisper.

I blame the sudden coming back to life and awe reserved for beings that could just have easily squashed me instead of brought me back to the land of the living that I couldn’t get my voice louder than a shaky whisper.

Sideswipe went to guard the door and keep any nurses or doctors from breaking up the party and Ratchet asked if he could do a scan on me, just to make sure that there weren’t any nasty leftovers of the leukemia hiding out in my body. I went ahead and gave the okay, though I wasn’t really in the mood, knowing that with my mother, overprotective boyfriend, and often scary ex-girlfriend in the room, I wasn’t going to get out of it, even if I did refuse.

Ratchet, after he finished his scanning, then dropped the bomb with no prior warning at all.

Well shit. I’d forgotten so soon that as Sam Witwicky, my avoidance of unwanted events out of my control generally tended to hang around the ‘sucks’ area of the rating chart. So I had been brought back to life, only to be turned into a half alien robot, complete with a spark in my chest that had meshed itself into my heart. Oh and I’d probably live after half as long as a regular Cybertronian, whom I already knew from talking to Bumblebee can live practically forever as long as they aren’t offed by a Decepticon.

White noise began to fill up my hearing and I vaguely remember asking everyone to leave, even Bumblebee, though the damned spark in my chest shrunk and twinged when he left the room. 

As soon as the room was empty, I let my panicked feelings out. My first thought was to wonder whether or not I was still Samuel James Witwicky anymore, and if I wasn’t, would Bumblebee still love me? That train of thought led me to hysterical laughter which quickly turned into sobbing and only stopped once I had fallen to sleep from sheer exhaustion and shock.

I spent thirty minutes in a nearly catatonic state, pondering on who I was and how I could go about dealing with being half alien. After contemplation I finally decided that I was still Samuel James Witwicky, but simply got an upgrade.

When I came out of the room, it was Bumblebee’s embrace that surrounded me first, and then my parents and Mikaela readily joined in afterwards. It was as I returned their hugs that I realized another thing that had changed. I was stronger; much, much strong than I used to be.

Within the first twelve hours of being back in my parents’ house I had broken four glasses, my alarm clock, and the banister railing. I started to avoid touching anyone over the next few days, keeping my hands shoved in my pockets to prevent them from hurting someone I cared for. It steadily progressed into avoiding touches from others as well, although every time it was Bumblebee I shied away from, I felt like a little piece of me was dying again.

It was Mikaela who took up the challenge of making me see reason. The ‘warrior goddess’ merely came charging at me full tilt, yelling out my name as she got closer. I turned around to see if there was some rogue Decepticon that I had missed and that was my mistake. She slammed into me and brought us both to the ground. Straddling me, she brought her heads forwards to cup my face.

“You died. Again,” she whispered despairingly, and I couldn’t keep my eyes from filling as I watched a few stray tears fall from her own. “Don’t keep us from making sure you’re still here.”

Wisely, that was the last of my reserving touch, including my boyfriend.

That night was one of our times together that, due to my newly acquired processors, will stay burned onto my core database for my eternity. It was the first time we had full blown out sex since my leukemia had taken a turn for the worse and after having thought I would never feel it again, I was more than desperate.

The first round was nothing but the urgent need to become joined again after so long.

Everything about it was hard and fast. Bee hadn’t even started with one finger; instead shoving two lube-coated ones into my entrance and pounding them against my prostate in a way that had me screaming in seconds, begging for more, for him. He only hesitated briefly after my pleadings, before slamming his cock into me, setting a brutal pace.

We rarely ever fucked like we did then, our kisses more like mauling each other’s mouths in our haste and leaving various bruises and hickeys everywhere our lips could reach. With barely restrained power, he flipped us over so that I was straddling him. Seizing my hips in his hands, he then pulled me practically all the way off him before slamming me back down, forcing me to ride him at his rate. I screamed, he growled, and I reveled in every painful minute of it. I wasn’t one who enjoyed pain, but after everything I’d suffered through, the pain was a great reminder to me that I was still alive.

After all, dead people didn’t feel the comforting stretch and burn of their boyfriend’s cock slamming into their entrance. Dead people didn’t scream/moan into their boyfriend’s mouth to have him swallow it down like it was damndest best thing he’d ever tasted. Dead people didn’t have climaxes so great and sudden that the ceiling fell down and the floor flew up, and without having there cocks touched at all.

That was also the first time my climax made me black out.

Our second round was the complete opposite, tenderly slow and gentle.

It was very much like our first time together. Soft kisses were placed nearly everywhere on my face; eyelids, cheeks, nose, lips, earlobes, and even down into the valley of my throat. After lips had finished their show of devotion, Bee’s tongue came onto the scene, running over every inch of skin in thanks, paying special attention to my nipples, suckling and laving them and I swore I could feel the cherishment in every gentle stroke.

He then moved to my cock, gracing it with so soft heat and shallow sucking that had my hips minutely rocking forward, while my hands were busy gliding through his hair and fingertips brushing tenderly against his cheeks, down his nose, and across his forehead. 

My reddened and slightly abused entrance was soothed by first one and then two generously lubed fingers before a smoothly slick tongue took over my preparation. After several minutes of this, a third finger was introduced before his cock was lathered with the slippery oil and placed at my entrance, only pushing in once his eyes had locked onto mine and seen the assent that laid there.

Slow and docile rocking began and his cock glided in and out of my channel in what felt like one long caress, as he lay over me, covering me with his own body. His eyes never left my face and chaste kisses were bestowed upon my lips at random intervals, along with his supple hands stroking through my short curls. My legs slowly came up and wrapped around his waist, locking him in close to me, and entwining us both.

We kept the same speed for the entire time, our gazes never leaving each other, and by the end both of us had tears running down our faces. We mixed our tears, sweat, saliva, semen, and bodies together until you couldn’t tell where one of us ended and the other started. Together we climaxed and then basked in the afterglow, exchanging whispered endearments and loving touches. I had an unspoken love of feeling his semen inside of me, an undeniable mark that I was his.

The third and last round of the night was a complete mixture of the first two, save for one difference. It was me doing the penetrating, a rare thing in our bedroom activities.

It wasn’t because Bee didn’t allow it or enjoy it when I did top, but it’s just that I don’t often feel like dominating or being in control. Anyone who calls me a girl I’ll sic my giant alien robot boyfriend on, but I really like having Bee protect, guard, and take care of me. Even his territorial over-protectiveness has its own appeal.

So I was a bit stunned when after having come down from our second release, Bee slathered my cock in the oil and guided me to his entrance, my tip barely brushing against the puckered muscle and then locked gazes with me.

He was asking me without words, something I had easily gotten used to with him not being able to use his voice for so long. And just like when he wordlessly asked me to protect the cube in his stead, I obeyed, pushing steadily into him and gasping out at the clasp of so tight heat and the unexplainable feeling of being welcomed home.

It wasn’t hurried like the first round, or drawn out either like the second one. Instead, it was a perfect combination of speed and slowness, gentle and harsh, giving and taking. Bee had rolled us over onto our sides and none of our hands were idle. Mine were alternating between running across his hips and thighs while his traced patterns and unknown symbols on my neck and back. My infamous low self-esteem had a heartfelt leap when Bee hit his release first, and without me having touched his cock once.

I crashed a few lunges after, my hips thrusting and twitching in short little jerks as I left my semen in Bee’s channel. Feeling as if all the energy in my body had being drained from me into my climax, my exhausted body turned itself into a puddle of goo. Utterly satiated from three intense rounds of sex after a three month dry spell, I fell into sleep nearly instantly, instinctively curling up into Bee.

That night was the first time I slept without being plagued by nightmares since my second death.

My parents were a bit reluctant, but eventually caved to my begging and gave their okay for me to live at the Autobots’ base while getting used to my new body. Optimus acted pretty much like a father who’d suddenly gotten the daughter-in-law he always wanted. Seeing as how the Autobots had pretty much raised Bumblebee, I could see the connection of him being their son. Plus, with me and Bumblebee being ‘sparkmates’ as he coined it, I was being kinda brought into the family. My mind couldn’t even balk at the thought of being the ‘daughter’ of the match. After all, I was more fragile than even the twins.

Ratchet and Bumblebee did the best job helping me relax. The former by answering any questions that I had and scanning me for any changes, and the later by simply being there for me and keeping me laughing.

Though Optimus tried his best to have the other Autobots give me time to get adjusted to my new body and surroundings, it didn’t keep Ironhide from pushing me to start weapons training with him, it didn’t keep Sideswipe from pestering me with options and questions about what alt form I was going to choose, and it really didn’t keep the twins from annoying me about what my new ‘Autobot’ name was going to be.

Deep down, I knew the twins were just being their annoying selves, but I couldn’t help but feel more anxious every time the twins brought up the idea of me taking a new name. It didn’t help that it was the thing I was most nervous about; the idea that I wouldn’t be Sam Witwicky anymore, that I’d be something alien, something neither my parents nor Mikaela would want to deal with. I just wanted to keep being myself, to keep being just Sam.

Over the next few days at the base, I gained more self-confidence and started to feel comfortable in my new body. Regular sex with my boyfriend was a big part of it, but I certainly wasn’t complaining.

Yet again, I had forgotten about how my avoidance of unwanted events out of my control generally tended to hang around the ‘sucks’ area of the rating chart. This time though, the disaster was because of the twins. Then again, I now know that it’s always the twins’ fault.

They had gotten the brilliant idea to kidnap me and threaten to do ‘maintenance’ on me with one of Ratchet’s preferred wrenches if I didn’t call off Bumblebee. They’d snatched me during one of the random rare times when Bumblebee wasn’t at my side and tied me down to the berth of the med bay.

For some unknown reason I got really really scared. Maybe it was too much of a reminder of what Megatron had done, or that my new body didn’t cope as well with the feeling of helplessness. Whatever triggered it, my mind kinda fizzled out like a staticy TV for a moment and when I came back to myself, Bumblebee was between me and the twins, there was a smoking hole in one of the med bay’s wall, and my entire body was now made of metal. Freakin’ metal.

Arms, legs, chest, back, head, everything was metal. I looked like a transformer who’d gotten zapped by a shrink ray. At least I was the same height, so walking wasn’t too much of a problem, but I didn’t get very far before I collapsed, my body curling in on itself as my mind went into meltdown.

Thoughts were flashing back and forth in my brain. No more hugging my parents now, I’d surely crush them. No more shopping trips with Mikaela or rides out to the lake with Bumblebee, I couldn’t be seen by people. No more outside, no more being just Sam, never ever ever.

It was Bumblebee that brought me back. After a couple hours of merely holding and touching me while also in his protoform, I finally calmed down enough to open my optics with Bee’s coaxing, and was met with human skin. I’d turned back to human while thinking.

Of course a check-up with Ratchet was done and it was discovered that my protoform took over when I wished it to, or when my human body felt incredibly afraid or stressed. Ratchet also thought that I would be able to scan and transform into an alt mode without damaging myself. Throughout the entire ordeal Bumblebee cradled me in his hands and when the scans were finished, handed me to Ratchet for safekeeping before going after the twins, revenge burning in his optics.

That’s when the betting started between the others and I learned that Autobots were not much different from humans when it came to guessing at the odds.

I couldn’t help but feel like withdrawing again from the rest of the group with the recent incident, but once again Bumblebee was able to pull me out of my funk.

With me being Cybertronian now, we knew that we had countless decades to spend together, so long as we made sure not to let the other get offlined by any rouge Decepticons that may be hanging around. So I wasn’t really expecting for Bumblebee to ask me to sparkbond with him, not even two weeks after the incident with the twins.

Though I was taken by surprise, I agreed quickly, not wanting Bee to think that I didn’t want to or wasn’t ready. Having nothing else to base it on, I thought it would be similar to sex, two bodies joined at one point right? It was, and yet wasn’t.

It started out similar. Bee picked me up and brought me close so that our chests were even. Then it was soft stroking and processors that were built to pick up the slightest brush of pressure tingled with delight and warmth. Slowly explaining to me as he went, Bee then started stroking and rubbing my chest plate catches, pleasant electric shocks running through my systems as I tried to mimic what he was doing to his own catches. 

When my chest plate catches finally unhinged and opened my chest cavity to reveal my spark, I was suddenly overcome with a feeling of extreme vulnerability, like being naked in room full of strangers. Bee soothed me, saying I felt that way because my spark was exposed, out in the open, making an easy target for an enemy. But there were no enemies here, only my Bee.

With slightly clumsy fingers, I unhinged Bee’s chest plate catches and he brought our chests flush together, love shining clear through his electric blue optics. Joined, connected, with warmth softer, but no less intense than that of sex washed over me in waves. It was better than sex, no a hundred times better than sex because not only could I feel my pleasure, but also Bee’s as well. It flowed back and forth between us; light, warmth, comfort, love. 

Along with the flow of pleasure there were memories as well. I saw Cybertron engulfed in war, mechs and femmes being massacred left and right, Megatron laughing all the while. I saw its demise as well, once the cube had been sent away in a futile attempt to stop Megatron. I watched Bee as a sparkling bothering Ironhide and then hiding behind Ratchet to be saved from Ironhide’s wrath. I knew that I was also sharing memories with Bee; me crying in the bathroom on my first day of kindergarten after my mom had left, spilling cake on my mom’s azaleas at my eighth birthday party, and going to buy my first and only car.

The flood of memories slowed down to a trickle, but the light and warmth continued to grow, until it felt like the two of us were wrapped up in a cocoon of bliss and once we hit what I instinctually knew was overload, the light expanded to become all that I could see.

The descent from overload was more like a gradual slide than the sudden fall of sex, and we basked in the recent memory of our joining, now ‘married’ by Cybertronian standards. Even after both our chest plates had fully closed, for countless minutes afterwards, I laid in Bee’s hands, content to cuddle and gently touch each other.

It was the first time I didn’t want to immediately return to my human form and felt comfortable in my protoform.

Exactly two weeks after my first protoform transformation, Bumblebee and I broke the news of our sparkbonding to Optimus first, and then to the rest of the Autobot gang. What came after was a huge alien robot party including Captain Lennox, Sergeant Epps, all the Autobots save for Arcee who was hanging out with Mikaela and Caleb, and even Simmons.

I will for eternity, never think of Ironhide in the same way ever again. Who knew that all it took to make him whipped was a little five year old girl who needed a friend for dress up? I also can never use the word ‘fairy’ in any context ever again while on base or within one hundred feet of Ironhide. It tends to make him just a bit cranky.

To surprise Bumblebee, I went and scanned a Yamaha motorcycle, specifically a FZ6 that had caught his eye when he saw it on the road and picked up his holoform to go and show Optimus. We also told him my new ‘Autobot’ name, Solarspark, which Bumblebee had come up with after one of our slower and gentler rounds of sex. Solar for the sun I had helped to save and spark of course for the one that allowed me to become half Cybertronian.

I think Bumblebee must have done some aggressive persuasion because the only time the Autobots used my new name was during official meetings and other ‘formal occasions’.

Well, except of course for the twins. They were thrilled not to be the ‘youngest’ of the Autobots anymore and made it their duty to tease, harass, and annoy me as much as possible. Now that I had an alt mode, I was officially ‘fair game’. For the first few days after getting my alt mode, I spent most of my time in high speed chases, running away from the twins and eventually learning how to bait them into running into Bumblebee.

After awhile, it really did start to feel like a game instead of a chore or annoyance. It also helped that I got them back more often than they pranked me such as spray painting them both hot pink while they recharged, pouring maple syrup in their interiors which Ratchet refused to fix since they’d locked me in the dumpster the previous day and made me late to my appointment with him, and downloading to their systems a hard to get rid of audio file that continuously played repetitive country songs.

The icing on the cake was how Optimus appeared to suddenly become deaf when the betting pools were discussed by the Autobots on whether me or the twins would come out on top that day.

What I thought would be the hardest part came next; telling my parents that I could turn into a five foot nine inch robot, turn into a motorcycle, and also was now married to my boyfriend in alien robot terms. I was braced for a raving mom swinging a bat at Bumblebee and a dad shaking my shoulders to try and make me see sense.

For once, my avoidance of unwanted events out of my control didn’t hang around the ‘sucks’ area of the rating chart.

Dad was happy since it meant I was moving out for good and would no longer be a threat to his grass. Mom was happy that I was married, even if it was to a male alien robot. Sometimes though my mom happy can be just as scary as mad. She kept going on about me and Bumblebee settling down and starting a family. I don’t think she caught the ‘male alien robot’ part of the equation, but I wasn’t going to be the one to remind her.

As the weeks passed, I tried to spend more and more time shifting to my protoform in an effort to get used to it. Sometimes I’d go for a ride in Bee, just like before my leukemia developed. Other times, I’d take Bee’s holoform for a spin while in my alt mode and then there were times, rare than the others, where me and Bee would both be in protoform and just walk around the base, holding hands like any other normal couple.

Call me sappy and I’ll squish you, but now that I’m married to my alien robot/guardian car, I don’t think there’s anything that could make us more happy.

Maybe getting a dog, but that’s a decision for another day.


	5. Ratchet

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place 10 months after 'Optimus' and 'Hybrid Sam'.

Humans are notoriously known for their adaptability and quick adjustment to change.

Their lives are inadequately brief and their instincts for survival so engrained that every new generation is more willing to accept the change brought on by new ideas and technology than the one that came before.

Cybertronians were not similar to humans with regard to change.

Most sentient beings understand that change must occur at some point in existence for life to continue its flow. However, since Cybertronians can live for uncounted years if not slain in battle, their traditions, rituals, and way of life has not been severely altered since their race’s beginning.

Thus Cybertronians and especially elder Cybertronians were not particularly fond of accelerated change that the humans thrived on.

It was that fact that had Ratchet’s internal vents cycling in frustration as his probability counters were still sending his logic processors error readings.

The day from which his frustration was sparked had commenced in the typical fashion. Sam had come to him for his monthly scan, a duty he had been coerced into by Bumblebee after his first protoform transformation to make sure that his new systems were running smoothly and without complications.

Just the previous month there had been a slight scare with Sam’s biological form’s reading being higher than normal for three days before leveling off to their regular numbers.

So Ratchet had performed the monthly scan in his usual way, perfectly content with the routine that had been established. That is, until his scans indicated that there was an addition to Sam’s body that had not been their last month.

Samuel James Witwicky had once again disobeyed all rules regarding logic and now housed a second spark, immature, within his chest.

Not only that, but the spark itself was designed nearly identically to the one that Sam already possessed, containing organic material as well.

The very idea of an organic, even a half organic such as Sam having a second spark within their chest cavity was improbable at best and preposterous at worst. Nonetheless, Sam had a talent for baffling logic on various occasions. Ratchet’s processors recalled that the probability of Sam transforming into a Cybertronian hybrid had been less than 0.0000000127 percent. 

There were no known data records, observations, or studies done in all of Cybertronian history that dealt with the appearance of new sparks. Sparks had always and only come from the Allspark, their race’s provider of new mechs and femmes.

Ratchet had barely any information to base his theory on and instead opted for Sam to relay to him once again exactly what the Primes had disclosed to him before returning him back to life.

The only theory that Ratchet’s logic processors could compute without displaying error readings was the Primes’ quote to Sam of ‘change must be had to bring life back to the child’. His first speculation was that the word child referred to Sam, but he now suspected the quote actually referred to the Allspark. The Primes had altered Sam and brought him back to life to be a channel for the Allspark’s power.

The Allspark energy that was still prevalent in Sam’s body was trying its best to create new sparks just as it had before, and thus used Sam and Bumblebee’s interfacing and sparkbonding to make the new spark’s beginnings.

Ratchet requested that Sam have Bumblebee join him in the med bay, and the yellow ‘bot arrived in what may have been record time due to having sensed his bonded’s anxiety through their recent sparkbond.

Though not a soft spoken mech by default, Ratchet tried his best to deliver the shocking news to the young pair in the calming way he could. Unsurprisingly, his attempt backfired and his aural sensors were met with nothing but stunned silence.

Then, Sam uttered a single question, his body shaking subtlety.

“So I’m a male half alien robot who’s pregnant?”

It took several clicks for Ratchet to research the term on the internet, and by the time he had done so, Sam’s body had begun to tremble immensely.

Ratchet confirmed Sam’s inquiry and then everything deteriorated.

Hysterical laughter burst from Sam’s vocal processors and over the course of a few minutes turned to gratingly harsh and rapid breaths. Bumblebee’s circuits were on the verge of overloading as he tried to console and calm Sam.

Sam after calming marginally, choked out question after question such as when and where the spark would come out, what would it look like, would it even be human, and how they were going to explain the situation to everyone else.

Assuring Sam that the spark’s extraction would be entirely painless and would most likely occur sometime within the next three months, after which they would place the spark in a sparkling body that Bumblebee and Sam would design as Co-Creators. Ratchet went on to explain that the probability of this event occurring again was around 72 percent. He praised both Bumblebee and Sam for their efforts in aiding the Cybertronian race from avoiding complete extinction.

It was after that statement that Ratchet learned exactly how potent a temper Samuel James Witwicky had inherited from his female Creator.

Transforming seamlessly into his protoform, optics blazing electric blue, Sam had sprung from off the med bay’s examination table and nearly flung himself at Ratchet, only Bumblebee’s hands holding him back had stopped him. Sam’s vocal processors were screeching at him; in decibels that Ratchet hadn’t known he could even articulate.

Most of it was garbled speech but Ratchet did discern the phrase “I’m not going to be some damn alien robot incubator.’

The struggles Sam was displaying very rapidly quieted down and he transformed back into his biological body and once more breathing harshly in irregular intervals. As Bumblebee’s actions were once again reverted to attempting to pacify Sam and shooting sidelong glares at Ratchet for once again severely upsetting his bonded, Ratchet proceeded to inform Sam that would never under any circumstances force Sam to interface with him, or any other Autobot.

It appeared that Sam took no notice of that reassurance and continued with his unsteady breathing that was approaching levels nearly equivalent with involuntary hyperventilation.

By then the commotion had alerted Optimus Prime, Ironhide, and the twins, the former two entering the med bay out of concern, the latter two out of curiosity. One stern look from his leader had Ratchet cycling his vents yet again in frustration before briefing the others on the discovery. Though his central database faulted at the surrendering of patient confidentiality, the sparkbonded pair would not be able to hide the truth forever and a random sparkling running around about the base was certainly going to raise questions.

Prime was also not likely to be uninformed of the situation while his two sparklings were so distraught.

Once everyone had been notified of the occurrence, Sam had exhausted himself into merely releasing a few hiccups every click or two, while Bumblebee cradled him against his chaise, directly over where his spark was. Ratchet’s attention turned to the two just as he heard Bumblebee offer to Sam that if he wished, they could allow the spark to be extinguished and not transfer it to a sparkling body.

Ratchet’s optics narrowed in barely restrained fury at Bumblebee’s suggestion. After his tens of thousands of years in this existence, Ratchet had seen far too many mechs and femmes permanently offlined, and his mental processors nearly threw him into involuntary stasis at the thought of terminating the first sparkling to be sparked in thousands of years.

Before Ratchet could even begin his rebuttal, Optimus locked optics with him and stated in a firm and irrefutable tone that it was Sam’s body and thus his and his bonded’s decision as to what should be done. Optimus continued in a placating tone that if the probability of Sam producing another spark was so high, the two sparkbonded could always try for another again once they would properly prepared.

Sam diffused the confrontation before it could escalate by clarifying in a tremulous voice that he would have the sparkling, but was simply unprepared for it. He then started to babble about having not been prepared to be turned into or even meet alien robots in the first place.

Optimus praised Sam for his bravery, Bumblebee swore to help his bonded cope with the coming months, and Ironhide demanded Sam make sure that the sparkling identified as mech. The twins’ reactions, as usual, were not worth documenting.

Ratchet also reflected that Sam was not even aware that sparklings only came from the Allspark and how their race had been temporarily doomed with its destruction. After all, they had hidden that very fact from Sam, not wanting the boy to burden himself with misplaced guilt.

A few months passed and gradually every Autobot was informed about the new addition that would be arriving. Due to a few choice comments from Ironhide involving the words ‘weapons’ and ‘training’ Optimus made it transparently clear to the Autobots that Sam and Bumblebee’s sparkling would not be going near any type of weapons or warfare for a incredibly long stretch of time.

Apparently, Sam had come to Optimus in near hysterics after hearing said choice comments from Ironhide, images of his sparkling fighting off Decipticons haunting his dreams.

It was the first time that Ratchet had ever seen Prime appearing furious enough to engage one of his own comrades in a duel. Though, Sam did have the effect of bringing out Prime’s protection processors near constantly.

The twins in their never-ending schemes had taken up calling Sam “Momma Spark’ which Sam retaliated to by welding them to one of the corridors for three hours. The specific corridor in question was usually rather congested, but for some unknown reason was deserted for that length of time.

Ratchet had observed that every Autobot on base, save for the twins, was participating in aiding Sam with various activities. Jolt focused on giving advice to Sam and Bumblebee about building their sparkling’s body, Ironhide was attempting to be as obliging as possible, Ratchet himself ran frequent scans and examinations, Sideswipe worked with Arcee to make a small berth connected to Sam and Bumblebee’s, Optimus rarely vacated his office so that he could be found at a moment’s notice, and Bumblebee did not leave his bonded for more than a click.

Just ten months following Sam’s transformation into a hybrid, the first sparkling for over twenty thousand years was sparked.

The event had been deeply encoded and embedded in every Autobots’ central database, seeing Sam and Bumblebee cuddling their new sparkling close. Yellow and blue armor, blue optics, and constant coos and clicks made Thunderstreak a sparkling that could melt the spark of any mech or femme.

Even the twins heavily curtailed their antics to prevent any accidents from damaging the Autobots newest member. 

After only three days, Sam delightedly discovered that Thunderstreak’s spark had copied its design from his own spark, and thus made the sparkling a hybrid as well, including the active use of a human form. This led to Sam giving Thunderstreak a new designation for his human form; Alexander Orion Witwicky.

As a human hybrid, Alexander had possession of Bumblebee’s holoform’s blonde hair, though it contained mildly darker tints to it, but also had inherited Sam’s brown eyes. Bumblebee reveled in this fact, as it was clear that there was no doubt to his progeny’s ‘parentage’.

Ratchet’s circuits were beginning to feel their wear when he learned that not only had Will and Sarah Lennox recently acquired a new sparkling, a male, but that Mikaela and Caleb were preparing for the arrival of a sparkling as well, though the gender was still unknown.

Sam and Bumblebee were thrilled for their friends, and the knowledge that Alexander would have others his own age to grow, play, and learn with.

Ratchet’s logic processors were busy calculating future damage to his med bay with the new sparklings. And the twins. The twins and the sparklings. Oh Primus…


	6. Ron

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Takes place 10 months after 'Optimus' and 'Hybrid Sam'.

Most Americans don’t ever get the chance to really prove their patriotism and allegiance. They never really repay the debt they own to their country.

Ronald Witwicky felt he’d paid off his family’s debt and at least three others’ with the giant alien robot fiasco they’d been dragged into.

He’d had giant robots ruin his meticulously groomed lawn, demolish Judy’s prized azaleas, been arrested and kidnapped by a secret government organization, and had his son dragged into mortal peril of a giant robot trying to kill him without his knowledge or consent.

Then, after everything had become normal once more he’d had his house partly blown up by a giant, although friendly, alien robot, been kidnapped again, but this time by evil giant alien robots while on his first romantic vacation with his wife since before Sam was born, forced to let his son run for his life through an alien robot battlefield, watch his son die while being held back by the military, and have his son come back to life only to die once again from leukemia and come back as a half human, half alien robot.

Selfishly, Ron had caught himself sometimes wondering if he should have just sprung for the Porsche.

It didn’t take Ron more than ten seconds of looking at Sam and seeing how happy he was with Bumblebee for him to be ashamed of that thought.

So after getting over the shock of having his son becoming part alien robot, Ron felt things were starting to get back to at least mainly normal.

His son had finally moved out, saving his grass from being stepped on anymore. Judy had cried on and off for a few days, but the finished construction of the pool and hot tub in the backyard, along with a family dinner which their son and his alien robot boyfriend attended that weekend cleared up the tears in no time flat.

Ron honestly thought that he was a pretty easy going guy. After all, when his son had brought his alien robot boyfriend over for dinner three weeks after turning into a half alien robot himself to inform his parents that he was now officially married to said alien robot boyfriend—husband—all Ron did was sit in stunned silence for a few moments before bringing out a bottle of wine to celebrate. His grass was officially safe for the end of time.

He had expected a blow up from Judy at the announcement, and she didn’t disappoint, but it was the total opposite of what he’d thought it would be. Judy had always wanted a daughter, but after several miscarriages before they’d miraculously had Sam, the doctors had warned her that she most likely wouldn’t be able to have another viable pregnancy. So Sam’s alien robot marriage gave her the chance to at least go a bit crazy with post wedding plans.

The Witwicky men, which now included Bumblebee as well, were far too wise to attempt to keep Judy from planning a reception for the newlyweds, but when she tried to call her friends to tell them the exciting news, Ron had to remind her about the whole ‘national security’ issue.

The reception went well enough, or at least well enough for having giant alien robots masquerading as humans. The twins had in their hurry to be the first ones in line for cake ended up smashing into the table, knocking the cake off, and making the candles fall over, setting the tablecloth on fire.

Ron had just been glad that his grass hadn’t caught fire, and it was amusing to see Judy tearing after two seemingly black teenagers with a steel alloy bat in her hands, screaming obscenities all the while that would make a soldier blush.

Otherwise, everything went smoothly, the rest of the guests including Major Lennox and his wife, Sergeant Epps, Simmons, Leo, Miles, and Mikaela with her husband whose name he actually remembered was Caleb giving gifts to Sam and Bumblebee as was tradition.

The Autobots had given gifts as well, though the twins’ gift had been made up of various sex toys, varying in color and size. Sam had turned red enough to rival a tomato and buried his face in his hands. Bumblebee had taken his turn chasing the twins across the lawn, though Bumblebee was smart enough to stay off the lawn and used the path.

Since the twins didn’t follow Bumblebee’s example, they ended up on dish washing duty, with both Judy and Ratchet standing over them, the former with a bat and the latter with a wrench in hand.

Things evened out after the reception with the newlyweds coming over for dinner every few weeks, sometimes with Optimus or Ratchet attending as well. Both Ron and Judy were delighted with the fact that their son had settled down and moved out, and Judy couldn’t stop gushing over how adorable the couple was, and when they were going to start their own family.

Ron could understand Judy’s eagerness to be a grandmother, but from the matching looks of horror on his son’s and his husband's faces, adopting babies was not one of the things on the top of their list to do.

Normal only lasted about another year and a half, but the calm wasn’t broken by more alien robot activity, but by less. Sam and Bumblebee visited less and less and though Ron thought it might just have been the typical progression of newlyweds forming their own lives, a few worried calls by Judy to Mikaela and Miles showed that the young couple had also stopped visits with their other friends.

Judy was ready to storm the Autobots’ base and demand answers, but Ron was able to hold her off, saying that their son would visit them when he had the time. However, as the weeks began to pass without any sight of their son, and only a few rare phone calls, Ron’s fatherly instincts began to get the feeling that something might actually be wrong.

The worry only built from there, the couple’s excuses getting more flimsy and when they failed to show up to celebrate Christmas, Judy lost it.

Calling the number they had been given to reach the Autobots’ base, Ron demanded to speak to his son, only to have Judy rip the phone out of his hand and start yelling for all she was worth into it. In less than thirty seconds she had Optimus Prime himself on the phone, giving the same flimsy excuses for why her son hadn’t been able to come see her.

In less than five minutes she’d had Optimus Prime promising that he would make sure to send the couple to visit them in three days or less.

Slightly appeased though still agitated, Judy thanked Optimus for his help and wished him a good day before hanging up the phone.

Exactly two days later, their son showed up on their doorstep, wearing a small, nervous smile that looked more like a grimace and looking both tired and stressed. After dragging him into the house, Ron and Judy both began to fire out questions that ranged from asking if the leukemia was back, to whether there’d been an evil alien robot attack, or if Bumblebee had gotten some weird robot virus, all of which Sam shook his head no to.

Their son had tried to explain away whatever was obviously bothering him, saying that some big event had come up and he and Bumblebee had to spend a lot of time on the project. Neither Ron nor Judy bought the bull Sam was trying to spout and Ron felt that it was high time he got the truth from his son.

“Samuel James Witwicky, you’ll tell us what’s really going on this instant or I’ll send your mother up to that base to live with you.”

Having his full name spoken by him made Sam flounder, as it was nearly always Judy who resorted to using his son’s full name.

Letting out a shaky sigh and running a nervous hand through his hair, Sam stood up and told his parents he would go get Bumblebee from the car and they’d explain the situation together. Both Ron and Judy waited with baited breath while Sam was out of the house, wondering if he’d head for the hills instead of coming back, but after a minute or two Bumblebee came into the house, followed by Sam in whose arms was a baby, half dozing and sucking its thumb.

The little boy looked to be around six months old, with dirty blonde hair and chocolate brown eyes the exact same color as Sam’s.

In a single breath Ron and Judy’s worry vanished to be replaced with joy. Clasping her hands together in delight, Judy asked excitedly if they’d adopted already and what name they'd picked.

Ron admitted he was a bit confused when Sam told him they hadn’t adopted, but that the boy’s name was Alexander Orion Witwicky. Sam then mumbled something about Alexander being really theirs, and that they wouldn't need to adoption now or in the future.

After some awkward silence, Bumblebee was the one who finally broke down and explained about how exactly Alexander came to be without the need for adoption or in vitro fertilization. During his husband’s explanation, Sam’s eyes remained glued to the floor, though his arms tightened their hold on Alexander and brought him closer to Sam’s chest.

Once Bumblebee had finished, Judy demanded to know why they had tried to keep Alexander a secret. Their son stuttered out a few phrases and Ron caught a ‘cause it’s not normal’ in the midst along with the mumbled reason that Alex was too young to control when his robot side would pop out, making them afraid to take him off base.

That led to a lengthy scolding from both Ron and Judy, though mainly from Judy since it was hard for Ron to get his two cents worth in between his wife’s breaths. Judy assured Sam that she was proud to be Alex’s grandmother and that if he ever pulled this type of stunt again he’d be put back under their roof and be house arrested to boot.

Ron was a kind enough father to ignore the suspiciously shiny eyes of his son as they dragged him and Bumblebee into a family group hug. After all, it wasn’t everyday that a guy found himself pregnant by an alien robot.

The next four hours were filled with Judy taking complete charge of her grandson, from holding him and changing his diapers to feeding him and putting him down for a nap. Sam wisely let her do so, knowing a tantrum would explode if he didn’t, and it wouldn’t be from the baby.

It then became a frenzied landslide of activity for the next few days. Judy was an unstoppable force, catching up on what she deemed her ‘grandmother duties’. Ron’s recently finished home theater was evicted from Sam’s old room and relocated to the basement to allow for a nursery that their grandson could have when his parents stayed overnight.

No baby item was barred from being purchased by Judy in a mad rush to get the nursery ready as soon as possible; crib, changing table, bookshelves, rocking chair, mobile, baby monitors, swing, and play pen were all added to the nursery in an attempt to convince the young parents to stay over more often.

The greatest purchase had been a black and yellow outfit, covered in glitter and sewn in rhinestones and complete with an embroidered bumblebee following the yellow stitched words ‘Daddy’s Little Honey’. Bumblebee had picked up Judy and spun her around in happiness after unwrapping the gift.

Sam had complained for almost an hour afterwards about how his mother couldn’t understand that you didn’t put jewelry on boys and that his son should not be a victim of ‘bling’. Ron felt it was his job to point out to his son that his alien robot husband had a shiny disco ball hung from his rearview mirror when first ‘bought’. Sam just sulked after that comment, but came out of his funk when he saw how cute Alex actually looked in the ‘bling’ outfit.

Within the week, pictures of Alex had arrived in the mail and Ron happily took them to work to show off, while Judy took her copies practically door to door, showing uncommon restraint by withholding any particular details as to how Alex had joined their family.

After Sam had finally spilled his guts, Ron and Judy went to the Autobots’ base to celebrate New Years with their son and his extended family. The proud grandparents were thrilled to see that Alex had every alien robot wrapped around his little finger, displaying the Witwicky charm proudly.

Even Optimus and Ironhide had been caught playing with the little boy, and Ratchet had an unusually sincere smile on his face for the entire party.

Along with the pictures of his wedding to Judy, graduation pictures of Sam, and several various pictures of Alex being his natural adorable self, a large photo of the Autobots in their human disguises along with all the Witwickys, Bumblebee, Miles, Mikaela and Caleb, Major Lennox and his wife Sarah with their two children, and Sergeant Epps graced the mantle above their fireplace. 

All of them American citizens (the President himself had granted the Autobots citizenship after the Egypt fiasco) and all of them one big not-so-normal typical American family.

Ron felt he’d done plenty to prove his allegiance to his country and was now content to simply enjoy the American dream of wanting better for his children and grandchildren.

Meaning there would be no more evil alien robots coming after his family, thank you very much.


End file.
